Schubert & Stitches
by Malone1
Summary: Carlisle/Bella. What really happened in Carlisle's office. One shot.
1. Chapter 1

Title: Wanders nachtlied II op 96 no. 3 d. 768 - schubert

Summary: One shot—What really happened when Carlisle stitched Bella up.

"Jas," Alice pleaded, cradling Jasper's frenzied face in her tiny hands. Bella saw his face—twisted and contorted with ferocity, his deadly teeth gnashing and snapping.

"It's just a little…" Alice trailed off as she caught the scent of the blood trickling down Bella's arm, "…blood."

Bella looked away from her injured arm to see a rather sobering sight: Seven

"Get Jasper out of here," Carlisle ordered, instantly at Bella's side, his long, cool fingers appraising the wound with centuries of expertise.

"I'll have to stitch this up in my office," he said, his brow furrowed, "Check on Jasper. I'm sure he's very upset with himself, and I doubt he'll listen to anyone but you now."

Edward stood rooted to the spot, clenching his jaw, glaring at the floor.

"Edward," Carlisle repeated firmly, his authority in his voice gentle, but unmistakable. Slowly, Edward obeyed, his expression stony and solemn.

Bella gasped as Carlisle lifted her effortlessly onto his desk, not giving her a second glance as he busied himself with strips of gauze. Bella admired him, unable to help herself. His perfect hands guided her arm to his elbow, "Try and keep it there, Bella, it will be easier to work from that angle," he muttered, and Bella let her arm relax against him, her hand curling perfectly around his side. He didn't feel cold and hard like Edward: on the contrary, he felt warm and safe. An unexpected wave of desire ripped through her. She swallowed, her mouth suddenly feeling very dry.

"I never wanted to have a party," she said quickly, needing to say something, anything to break the silence.

A ghost of a smile passed over Carlisle's lips, "It's not your fault. Jasper hasn't been away from human blood as long as the rest of us."

He shifted, tapping the glass from the tweezers into the bowl. Bella felt hardness shift under her hand, it seemed silly to call it muscle—more like the plates of armor on a rhinoceros, than anything human.

Another wave of desire pulsed through her, stronger this time. Being with Edward never felt like this—this was terrible, this was like a drug, and this wasn't fair! She belonged with Edward, and Carlisle belonged with Esme. She felt horrible, like she was somehow betraying Edward, but Carlisle's nearness was awakening feelings she had never experienced. She was throbbing between her legs, like a furnace with a pulse. She clenched her thighs together, trying desperately to stop. It did quite the opposite. Bella's mind raced with a thousand things. What if he could hear her increased heartbeat, smell the desire wafting off her like a perfume? What if he told Esme, or worse, Edward?

"How do you do it?" She asked, wanting desperately to break the silence, to distract him from the shameful reaction of her body.

He finally looked up, flashing a small smile at her.

"Years and years of practice," he murmured, flashing her a flirtatious grin.

Bella's mouth went dry.

She felt the desperate urge to say something, anything, to distract herself from her body's betrayal.

"Did you ever just…think of doing it the easy way?" She mumbled, fidgeting. Somehow neither one of them took the question in the intended context.

Carlisle was silent, the guarded gentleness gone from his eyes. Instead they flashed with intensity, and it seemed to Bella that centuries of emotions were boring into her, as if his eyes were trying to say what he couldn't.

"Sometimes," he admitted quietly, his fingers lingering on her arm. She brushed her calf against the back of his knee, curling her fingers into his shirt, gripping his arm more tightly. She was almost afraid to look at him, but she did. She searched his eyes for disgust, rejection, even tolerance—but found only the eyes of a predator, blazing with hunger—she didn't know if it was for her or her blood: and she didn't care.

"Bella," he breathed, cupping her face in his cool hands, pressing his forehead to hers. Her breath mingled with his, and this closeness, this trembling desire struggling to remain chaste, was more erotic than all the kisses she had shared with Edward. She strained her lips toward his; ghosting over the soft, cool flesh. She whimpered softly, so quietly she had trouble hearing it, but Carlisle understood the plea. Bella gasped sharply as his lips collided with hers. His tongue darted gently into her mouth, taking time to taste her—with the silent understanding passing between them that this would only happen once.

Bella responded clumsily—seeming only to inflame Carlisle's ardor. With inhuman speed he unbuttoned her dress, sliding it off her shoulders and pushing it around her waist. Carlisle stepped back, his golden eyes seeming to glow, and Bella blushed under the intensity of his gaze, hunching over.

"Stop," he whispered fiercely, halting her arms, "You're exquisite, Bella."

He bent his sleek head to her breasts, running his lips over them before taking a dainty nipple into his mouth, his teeth grazing her. A shock shot through Bella, the clash of his cool mouth on her hot flesh more intense than anything she had ever felt. He sucked gently, and Bella gasped, raking her nails through his hair as he lavished attention on her. Lost in the sensation, Bella's mind was a clouded haze. His licks and nips became more fervent as he slid his hands up her legs, before kneeling before her, hooking an elegant finger in her underwear, yanking them off.

Bella squirmed, snapping back to reality, suddenly panicked, but Carlisle held her still in an iron grip. She felt more like prey now than she had ever felt around the Cullens, and for a moment she played the role of a terrified deer facing her hunter.

"Bella," he growled warningly, sending a jolt of electricity straight to her belly. This was a side of Carlisle she had never seen.

He was primal, violent, and dominant.

Seeing him like this was unbelievably erotic.

His eyes softened, as if to remind Bella that it was still Carlisle. She relaxed, watching his head dip between her legs. She was painfully aware of his every movement, his fingers gripping her thighs, his breath on her. She jumped when she felt his regal nose run up her slit, blushing fiercely as he breathed deeply. He wasted no time in attacking her, and at the first swipe of his flat tongue, she was lost to it, throwing her head back, her eyebrows furrowed and mouth open in silent entreaty. His pointed tongue circled her nub with inhuman speed, making her whimper and mew. She gripped the edge of the desk so hard her knuckles were white, shamelessly grinding her hips against his mouth. A light sweat covered her body, her knees squeezing his shoulders. Bella's eyes flew open as he plunged his tongue into her, introducing her to an entirely new sensation before returning to her clitoris.

She was close now, she could feel it, and so could he. He flicked his tongue over her, and Bella flew over the edge, her mouth frozen in a silent scream. He let her ride it out, reveling in the feeling of her walls clenching around his tongue. She groaned in disappointment as his tongue left her, and she opened her eyes to see Carlisle unfastening his belt, his face shining with her orgasm, a gentle smirk on his face. His pants pooled around his ankles, and Bella was face to face with his cock. Overcome with curiosity, she wrapped her tiny hand around him, feeling its weight. It was soft, but strong—like steel rod covered in velvet. His hair was sparse, giving her an excellent view of his heavy balls. She darted her tongue out, running it up the underside of the shaft, making Carlisle shudder and grip her hair tightly. She sucked him into her mouth hungrily, swirling her tongue around the head, bobbing up and down.

"Bella stop," he pleaded, pulling her up and setting her on the desk once more. His eyes met hers, as if he was silently asking her permission.

"Yes," Bella groaned, spreading her legs, biting her lip as she felt his tip press into her. She gasped at the sensation; more different than anything she had ever felt. She felt completely filled, as if it was almost too much, like sliding into a bath that was just too warm, but not warm enough to scald.

"Oh," she breathed in wonder.

"Yeah?" Carlisle replied huskily, that one word somehow…naughty. Perhaps it was that he never used it, it was always "Yes". There was something base about it, coming from his proper mouth.

He began to thrust, and it was all Bella could do to hold on to him for dear life. He was filling her so completely it was painful—she knew it was harder and deeper than any human could go. He was brushing against some secret spot inside her; a spot she knew would belong to him forever. With each thrust Bella felt herself come closer and closer to some unknown, daunting feeling building in the pit of her stomach. She buried her nose in the crook of his neck, feeling his muscles tense beneath her face, hands, and lips, his breath ragged in her ear, She was mumbling incoherently now, urging him to bring her closer to this new peak she was chasing. He began to grunt, his thrust becoming more erratic. The pressure inside her was reaching unbearable, wonderful levels. Her vision began to blur and darken as she neared her release, and with a final series of thrusts that she was sure bruised her cervix, she exploded, her slick channel pulsing and clenching around him, her body tingling and going numb. He gave a strangled cry, gripping her hips tightly and pushing as far into her as he could. Bella felt a burning inside her as Carlisle's hips jerked, crying out into her shoulder. The burning became hotter, more stinging, and the pain brought her crashing back to reality.

"Carlisle?" She asked worriedly.

"It's the venom. It's safe," he said tiredly, the old Carlisle slowly returning. He gave her a small smile, smoothing her hair and planting a chaste kiss on her forehead.

"It's unpleasant, but it will go away shortly," he explained, a tinge of shame in his voice.

"It's wonderful," she offered, smiling.

It was wonderful because it was Carlisle's. The fact that it was from him somehow making the pain exquisite, a reminder that this had actually happened.

Edward was waiting for her outside, glowering at her steering wheel.

She hoped that his sense of smell wasn't as good as she supposed.


	2. Chapter 2

Schubert & Stitches

Chapter 2

It had been weeks.

Weeks since Edward left.

Weeks since _Carlisle_ left.

Bella had lost them both.

The autumn rain fell dark and heavy during the days, and her sleepless nights were plagued by memories of Edward that clawed at her insides, denying her relief. Even the sleep she did get brought no comfort, her dreams were full of his golden eyes and tousled hair.

But Edward was not alone.

There was a pair of kinder eyes, and gently curving lips. Her unconscious mind summoned Carlisle, and for a few blessed moments, she found peace. She felt the gentle pressure of his hands on her hips, the cold of his mouth against the hollow of her throat…

She shot up in bed, panting.

Her heart was confused, her head spinning. She cradled her face in her hands, her shoulders shaking with her sobs. Her stomach churned, still reeling from the dream, and the overwhelming desire to be close to him. To Carlisle. If it could, she was sure her heart would leave her body in search of him.

She had to be near him.

And there was only one place in Forks to do so.

She didn't understand why she had to be near Carlisle. Why not Edward? To be frank, she was so exhausted—from lack of sleep and food, exhausted from trying to find logic where there wasn't any. The time had come for her to follow her impulses.

Bella swung her legs over the side of the bed, pulling her jeans on. She didn't even bother with a bra, just threw her worn yellow jacket on and crept out her door. She wished she could move with Edward's speed and silence, and just jump out her own window, landing effortlessly without skipping a beat.

But she was not a vampire.

She was just Bella.

She tiptoed past Charlie's room, careful to avoid the one floorboard that would be sure to wake him.

Starting her truck was a different matter. For once, it started smoothly and quietly, and Bella wondered idly if it _wanted_ to go to the Cullen's.

The trees flew past her—more like shadows than shapes. Her hands were wrapped around the wheel in a death grip, the radio mostly static, picking up stations here and there. For the entire drive she played the night of the party over in her mind, recalling his hands , his mouth, and the sweet burn of his venom inside her. She climbed over one last hill, and there it was, looming in front of her. She took a shaky breath, shutting off the truck , letting her forehead rest on the steering wheel for a moment before lifting her eyes to the house.

It was different.

When the Cullens had lived here, it was always bright and cheerful.

It was ominous now, the happy memories dormant in the shadows.

She screwed up her courage, slamming her door shut, her worn sneakers sliding on the slippery, damp leaves.

She thought of Carlisle.

_His fingers skimming over her thighs, drawing her skirt over her—_

Angrily, she twisted the knob, and the door opened.

She swallowed thickly. Dread and desire flooded her stomach as soon as she stepped through the door, quickly followed by the pang of longing for her eccentric family.

It was as if they had never left,

Emmet's jacket was thrown carelessly over a small table, the keys to his Jeep resting on the counter. Alice's Hermes scarf hung neatly from a hook.

She missed all of them.

Her eyes began to swim with hot tears and she ran blindly up the stairs, to where she could be closest to them.

To _him_.

But she did not arrive in Edward's room. Nor Alice and Jasper's, nor Emmet and Rosalie's.

It was Carlisle and Esme's.

She could feel the ghost of him here, and he was all she could feel, all she _wanted_ to feel in this ocean of despair.

She basked in the feeling, her fingers brushing over the bed, and over a discarded blue shirt.

Her heart stopped.

It was _his_.

With trembling hands, she grasped the shirt, bringing it up to her face. His scent hit her like lightning, and the dam that held her together broke.

With a gut-wrenching sob she sank onto the bed, clutching his shirt to her chest, violent cries racking her body.

She wanted to feel him again, see his gentle smile, the glow of his eyes.

Knowing that she never would made it that much worse.

For an hour she simply cried, soaking the shirt in salty tears until she could no longer produce tears.

Exhausted, her sobs faded into gentle, soft hiccups as she began to fall asleep.

She dreamed vaguely of being in cold arms.

The sensation did not go away for the hours she drifted in and out of sleep.

_I'm finally insane_, she thought. If this was insanity, it could be worse.

She sniffled, and breathed Carlisle's scent, fingering the buttons of the shirt draped around her waist.

…her waist?

She froze.

Her stomach began to knot with elation and terror as she brought her hand to the source of the smell, and was met with something cool and hard.

Slowly, she rose, not knowing what to expect.

It was him. He was here. _Here_, with _her_, as if nothing and everything had passed between them.

Carlisle.

Bella's mouth fell open, and she began to hyperventilate, her turbulent emotions completely ruling her body. She felt the tears threaten again, but his arms were around her before they had a chance to fall.

"No more tears, Bella, please," he whispered into her hair, "I can't bear to see you like this."

Bella realized he was clinging to her just as desperately as she was clinging to him.

She wound her arms tighter around his neck, and he did the same to her waist.

She felt him still as he took in how thin she had become, and he pulled back, cradling her face in his hands, his cool thumbs brushing over her cheeks. He studied her gaunt face, her sunken-in eyes, his brow furrowing with concern and regret.

"Bella…what have we done…" he breathed. He brought her face to his, placing a chaste kiss on her lips. When he tried to pull back, Bella held his head there, kissing him in return—not as chastely or as gently. She kissed him like she was a woman possessed.

"I've been dreaming of you," she confessed in between kisses, curling her fingers around the collar of his shirt, "I had to see the house. I had to feel you, even though…"

Her chin began to wobble.

"Hush, little one," Carlisle whispered into her ear, crushing her against him, "I'm here now."

She recalled the last time he held her like this. She was torn between mad desire and crippling despair, and navigating between the two was draining her. She remembered her dream, and why she came here, and instead of crying (like she was so used to doing now) she kissed his hard shoulder, her fingers coming up to the buttons of his shirt. He was still while she made quick work of his shirt, surprising even herself. She pressed her hand flat against his hard chest, and she looked up at him. His eyes were beginning to darken with desire, but they retained their gentleness. She had a sneaking suspicion Carlisle, ever the benevolent patriarch sensitive to human emotions, had a very good idea of what she was feeling—and knew that the tone of their last coupling was hardly appropriate. He brought her hand to his mouth, brushing his lips over her knuckles. But Bella did not want to be comforted, not anymore. She got to her knees, sinking into the soft mattress, and yanked her coat off, pulling her shirt over her head and tossing them both on the floor, followed by her jeans, until she was bare before him. Where once she would have been ashamed to do this with Edward, with Carlisle there was no shame.

"Bella," he breathed reverently, grasping her shoulders and bending down to kiss her, and both moaned at the contact. As his cool tongue swept into her hot mouth, drawing her lip between his deadly teeth, Bella felt the burning inside of her, the frantic need to have him everywhere, to be consumed by him until there was nothing left. She pushed the shirt off his shoulders, dragging her hands down his arms, feeling the hard muscle there. He shrugged out of the shirt, tossing it aside, and her panties dampened further. He smirked at her, not unkindly, placing her hands on his belt, tucking her hair behind her ear. She wasted no time, her attempt to undo his belt nowhere near as graceful as her efforts with his shirt. He chuckled darkly, finishing for her, yanking off his slacks, and he stood before her, the moonlight framing him in an ethereal glow. Bella stared dumbly. He was not absurdly muscular, there were no hulking lumps or bulging veins. He was sleek and lean, with generously defined pectorals and a trim waist. A light amount of baby fine blonde hair dusted his chest, making a trail down to his belly button, almost disappearing as it reached the most sacred part of him. The soft light illuminated angry white scars on his chest, which she traced idly with a finger.

"From another life," he murmured, "do I meet your approval, little one?" Bella looked up at him incredulously and saw that he was genuinely concerned he would not.

"You're kidding, right?"

He said nothing, only pushed her down gently, covering her mouth with his in a kiss that was decidedly more desperate, hungrier. She loved it when he let down his guard. He plundered her mouth hungrily, their tongues mimicking what their bodies wanted to do. She ran her hands over his back, feeling the power that lay just under his skin. His tongue snaked into her ear, pulling her lobe between his teeth and sucking gently. Bella groaned, her need for him was beginning to get uncomfortable. She reached down and grasped him, before he snatched her wrist.

"Not yet," he breathed, kissing her neck as she arched up into him, "I want to take my time with you."

Bella sank back into the pillows, running her fingers through his hair, her heart twisting at his words, Edward a forgotten memory.

For now there was only Carlisle.

_I could die like this_, she thought as he plundered her mouth with a sensuality that had been missing from their previous encounter. Where that had been frenzied and rushed, this was sultry, almost reverent. She squirmed beneath him, her body begging for his touch. His hand left its spot above her head, tracing her sides, her leg, and back up again. She tilted her hips up toward him, trying in vain to direct his hand.

He grinned into her mouth.

"Patience."

His mouth left hers and Bella whimpered at the loss, but gasped when his cold, wet mouth clamped over her nipple. The sensation was almost too much when his fingers began to work its twin, and she screwed her eyes shut as he swirled is tongue. Bella was becoming lost in the sensation, when his teeth grazed her nipple gently, experimentally. She hissed, grasping his head, drawing his gaze up to her.

"More," she whispered.

With a low moan, he returned his attention to her breasts, teasing them with his teeth, lips and tongue. She gasped when his long, slender fingers brushed against her opening, his palm against her centre. Bella's legs fell open as she ground her hips into his palm. She opened her eyes, staring into his, and she had never seen them so bright. She felt closer to him then than she had ever felt, his eyes and hers creating a connection that was not broken easily. His fingers twisted inside her, and her eyes began to flutter shut again in ecstasy.

Carlisle kissed the shell of her ear, "No," he whispered, "Keep them open. I want to see you."

Bella obeyed, losing herself in him and the sensations he was giving her. His fingers began to curl upwards inside her, stroking _that_ place. _His_ place.

Bella's eyes widened, and he increased the pressure, causing her to cry out.

"That's it, Bella," he cooed, and there was something dangerous lurking behind his voice.

She whimpered, needing something to push her over the edge.

"Come for me," he growled, and Bella flew apart, her eyes flying open, her vision shattering into crimson clouds, her hips jerking with the force of her orgasm. It was so strong she couldn't even call out his name, only repeat it in her head like a prayer.

_Carlisle. Carlisle. Carlisle._

She cherished this, when the gentle, caring vampire lost all control, when his eyes blazed with hunger and need.

"Look at me," he repeated, and they locked eyes as she felt his tip against her wet slit. She held her breath as he pushed slowly into her, his groan of pleasure relaxing her, stretching her, allowing him to fill her completely. They lay there for a moment, their breath mingling. She grasped his shoulders as he began to movie.

This felt amazing.

If she had thought his desk had been wondrous, this was sublime. She could feel every ridge, every curve of him: from the smooth, bulbous tip as it nudged her cervix, to the heavy weight of his balls slapping gently against her, sending shockwaves directly to her centre. She began to rock her hips up to meet his thrusts, clumsily at first (in true Bella Swan fashion) but soon they found a rhythm that had them both moaning, and her sweating. He was drawing out feelings in her that she had thought could belong only to Edward, from the way she admired the way his brow was furrowed in concentration, to his aquiline nose and small mouth.

To her he was perfect.

He pressed his hand down on her stomach gently and Bella yelped in surprise at the intensity. She could feel him coaxing that feeling out of her again, that feeling that was so far beyond an orgasm she didn't know what to call it. His hand found hers and his fingers threaded with hers. She didn't even have the coherency to register the intimacy of that before she heard him grunt and knew he wanted her eyes again, but she found his shut. Seeing him thrusting above her, the tensing of his abdominal muscles, the way the tendons in his neck stuck out, his grunts and growls. His eyes snapped open, finding hers instantly, and Bella was done for. She shrieked his name, her inner walls clamping down so hard around him they were sure to cause damage. She barely had time to ride out her own release when Carlisle's thrusts became harder and deeper, so deep pain began to seep into her fading orgasm like blood into a tissue, making it that much better. He was close now, she could feel it—he was crushing her hips with his grip, his thrusts were faster. With a terrifying roar, he pushed as far inside her as he could possible go and stilled, spurting thick, hot jets of venom into her womb. Bella winced, digging her nails into his shoulders so hard they would have broken the skin, had he been human. He moaned, his hips jerking forward in small thrusts as he emptied himself into her. Bella began to feel the venom burn, burying her face in his neck as it reached its peak, before subsiding. She smiled, sighing in satisfaction, pressing her lips to his shoulder. Shaking, he brought his forehead to hers, cupping her face in his hands, nuzzling her nose with his.

"My Bella," he breathed.

Bella's stomach twisted with guilt. She wasn't his Bella. He wasn't her Carlisle. Yet here he was, peppering their reunion with gestures of such closeness and intimacy it unnerved her. She hadn't been expecting this. Sex, yes, but making love?

Gently, he pulled out of her, settling beside her and gathering her in his arms. His cool chest felt good against her flushed skin.

"What about Esme?" She asked guiltily.

He was silent for a moment, stroking her hair.

"Esme and I have been growing apart for some time now," he sighed, "it happens with vampires. Eternity is a long time. It's not uncommon for us to separate from our mates. I suppose it was my fault, I saved Esme not knowing anything about her—only that I loved her. Enough for a human lifetime, perhaps. I loved her then. I still do, in a way."

Bella took a minute to process this, tracing a scar on his chest with a fingernail.

"Do…they know?" She was careful to say "they" instead of "Edward".

"Alice does. Thankfully she saw it while Edward was out of range. I've asked her to keep it a secret until I…_we_ figure some things out."

Bella stared into the darkness, her thoughts reeling.

Carlisle…or Edward?


	3. AN

Contrary to popular belief, I _have_ been continuing the story. I do need a beta in order to continue. If you're interested, shoot me MaloneSSHG at gmail dot com. Some qualifications:

You must be 21 or older.

You have to be able to pay attention to detail and be brutally honest. No thin skins on this end.

Looking forward to continuing the story!

MaloneSSHG


	4. Chapter 3

A/N: Massive thanks to my lovely betas Heather and Alex, you guys are awesome.

* * *

Even with Carlisle's comforting presence, it took Bella longer than usual to fall asleep. When sleep finally claimed her, she did not dream.

* * *

The sky was beginning to turn purple when she woke. Briefly, she wondered where she was. The view from her window at home was always trees, never sky. The pillow seemed abnormally cool, until she realized it wasn't a pillow at all—it was Carlisle. The events of the previous night came flooding back to her: the feeling of him inside her, the way they moved so perfectly together. With a sleepy grin, she scooted her backside up against Carlisle, who had held her the entire night.

"Good morning," he said, and she could hear the smile in his voice.

"Hey," she croaked, her voice rough from sleep.

She turned over, facing him. His expression unnerved her.

He was gazing down at her with what could only be described as adoration, and it made her feel undamaged. It made her feel like the jagged pieces of her heart were mending. Her gaze traveled from his warm eyes down to his mouth, and she lost her train of thought.

He bent his head down to hers, planting a kiss on her forehead, and Bella felt her stomach lurch with desire once more. She reached for him, but he drew back with a wry smile.

"It's Thursday, Bella," he murmured.

"So?" she pouted, draping a leg over his waist. He grinned, grabbing her thigh, pulling her to him.

"Someone has school…" he purred, capturing her mouth in a chaste kiss.

Bella's smile faded at the gentle reminder, and she pulled away. She suddenly felt uncomfortable, like she was a kid pretending to be an adult.

Carlisle sensed it, of course, and tightened his grip on her thighs to halt her.

"You're more mature than you give yourself credit for, and wise beyond your years," he said kindly, smoothing her hair back from her face, in a gesture of affection she was just beginning to notice.

Bella returned the gesture with a tight-lipped smile, as guilt and tension festered inside her.

* * *

Bella made it home just in time to successfully avoid Charlie. She heard the shower running, and bolted upstairs to change. Clearly, her absence had gone blissfully unnoticed. As she shimmied out of her jeans, she blushed at the remnants of Carlisle's venom on her inner thighs. She decided to leave it there; it made her feel closer to him, like he was with her. She barely registered what clothes she put on, her mind on Edward and Carlisle. After a quick breakfast with Charlie, she made her way to school, her heart falling into her stomach as she saw Jacob Black's motorcycle parked next to where she normally parked. Her burly friend had an easy smile on his face; enjoying the appreciative glances he was getting from the female half of the student body.

"Bella," he said, grinning, pulling her into a crushing hug. She heard him inhale sharply and his grip tightened painfully.

"Ow, Jake, Jesus," she complained, pushing against his chest. He pulled away, and his expression was murderous.

"The _father_?" He snarled loudly, "_Dr. Cullen_?"

"Jake, _shut up_!" She hissed desperately. Several people had turned their heads to stare at her quizzically.

"I can smell him on you. I can smell him _there_."

Bella flushed crimson. "How do you know that?" She exclaimed hotly, her mind racing.

Jake ignored her question.

"Since when are they back?" Jake asked, and his usually warm voice was hard and cold.

Bella stared at her friend, dumbfounded. She couldn't lie to him. Somehow, he knew.

"Last night. It's just him. He…he came back for me," she confessed quietly, hanging her head in shame.

Jake was shaking with rage, his body a furnace. He said nothing, instead turning sharply on his heel, and almost running to his bike. The bike roared away, tires screeching on the pavement.

The stares and whispers of her classmates made her cringe, and she hurried up the stairs to class, her thoughts a scrambled, panicked mess.

How had he known?

She was positive no one had seen her going to or from the Cullen's' house. She replayed the exchange between her and Jake over and over. He had been fine. Fine until…

He smelled her.

She had been so alarmed; she had almost forgotten that crucial detail.

"_I can smell him there."_

Bella blushed again. _But that's impossible. You can't smell something like that, let alone trace that smell to a particular person. It's just not possible, _she thought frantically.

* * *

Despite her confusing meeting with Jacob, Bella floated through the rest of the day in a cloudy trance. Her life outside of the Cullen family suddenly seemed so surreal, so trivial, like it had ceased to matter. Well, there was Jake.

Jake's friendship had been so important to her in the months following the Cullen's departure. She had no idea why he had suddenly decided to show up at her school, today of all days. Perhaps she had really bad luck.

_I should have taken a shower earlier_.

More importantly, something was changing in Jake. Something she couldn't put her finger on, but there it was all the same: he was getting taller by the day, bulkier, more _adult_. Even the way he held himself was different. There was a confidence in him that had never been there before. Until she moved to Forks, a lot of things had been fairy tales. What if Jake turned out to be another monster? One she hadn't heard of?

_Don't be stupid_, she scolded herself.

She stared out the window in class, hypnotized by the splatter of rain against the windows. Her thoughts drifted back to Carlisle.

Would Carlisle turn her? Could she really spend eternity with him instead of Edward?

_No_, she countered,_ not even eternity. He thought he and Esme would be forever, and look how that turned out._

She was suddenly sad, even angry with herself, effectively causing her mood to plummet to the earth like the rain. She had been a flight of fancy for one vampire, and would no doubt be the same to another.

But last night's tender exchange was so illusory, even daunting, leaving a knot of guilt and confusion in her. There was no doubt she loved Edward. Was that, then, all Carlisle was to her? Edward's replacement? A simple rebound?

She did not love Carlisle.

Not _yet_, anyway.

Carlisle's sudden attachment to her was disarming, and she felt guilty for not returning his feelings. Carlisle was able to give her the one thing Edward couldn't.

The day seemed to drag on forever. When 3:30 came around, she trudged to her truck, simply sitting in it for a minute. Part of her wanted to go to Carlisle, to seek comfort in him. The other part, the dominant part, wanted to be alone. She chewed on her lip as she drove home, and just as she pulled into the driveway, her phone buzzed in her jacket pocket.

New Text Message-_ He knows_, was all the text said.

Quickly, she saved the strange number under "Carlisle". Her heart raced. How did Carlisle know? Had he been watching Jake?

Maybe he wasn't talking about Jake at all.

Maybe he was talking about Edward.

If Edward knew, would he be jealous? Would he come back, just to claim her as his, like she was territory? The sick, desperate part of her hoped he would, just so she could see him again, even if he didn't love her. On the other hand, Edward hadn't returned.

Carlisle had.

Carlisle had kissed away her grief, offering her refuge, a way to channel her rage and sadness. She couldn't ignore the fact that Carlisle gave unconditionally; that of all of her strange family, he alone had returned to see to her heartache.

She shut off the engine and shuffled into the house, her bony shoulders slumped. She was thankful that it was a Thursday and Charlie worked late. She wanted to be alone. She attempted to do homework, hunching over her books, and tried in vain to distract herself from thinking about either one of them. Though the letters blurred together on the page, and she read the same sentences over and over, Bella pressed on, determined to push both men from her mind.

When she finally looked up, the sky was dark. She dug her palms into her eyes, sighing heavily.

"This can't go on," she groaned, frustrated.

"No, it can't."

She gasped, whipping around, her jaw dropping.

It was Edward.

He stood at her window, cold and perfect as ever.

"Edward," she said breathlessly, jumping up and flinging her arms around his neck.

He did not embrace her back.

She pulled away, her forehead furrowed in confusion, desperately searching his eyes for an answer.

"Why?" he asked icily.

Bella was floored. She ran a hand through her hair shakily.

"You left!" she sputtered, "you didn't, don't _want_ me!"

His jaw twitched.

"I did it to protect you," he said, his eyes softening, "not because I don't want you."

Bella simply stood there, gaping at him in disbelief. And then she was angry.

There he stood, as if _she_ was in the wrong, as if what he had done never occurred, as if her pain and all her suffering meant nothing to him.

"He was _there_ for me. He didn't _hurt_ me!" she cried defensively, and his black eyes blazed with anger.

He had her pinned against the wall before her sluggish human reflexes even had time to register what happened. His hands gripped her shoulders painfully, nearly crushing them.

Bella gasped for air, clutching her stomach, unable to double over and regain the breath he had knocked out of her.

"You're mine," he snarled, and he kissed her.

Well, a kiss wasn't the right word.

She yelped into his mouth as his teeth pulled at her lip, drawing blood.

Her blood ran cold as he began to attack her mouth hungrily. His tongue invaded her mouth, and Bella's stomach lurched at the coppery taste of her own blood. She tried to push him away, her small hands pushing against his icy chest uselessly.

"_Mine_," he repeated, and Bella broke out into a cold sweat, her head spinning. She could smell her blood on his cold lips, see it on his tongue, and it made her want to vomit—if she could stop swaying.

Before she crumpled to the floor, she heard a sharp, "Edward!" a scuffle, and then everything went black.

* * *

He had sensed Edward almost immediately. The hair on the back of Carlisle's neck had stood up, his cold skin prickling. Alice had called, frantic, warning Carlisle that Edward was returning to Forks for Bella.

Bella.

If Edward knew of his and Bella's tryst, his rage would surely be directed at Bella first. A knot formed in his stomach. He had to make sure she was safe—to protect her from Edward, who would surely be paying her a visit.

The sun was setting, bathing the forest in an eerie red glow.

_Hopefully not a sign of things to come_, Carlisle thought darkly as he darted through the trees at blinding speed, his feet barely touching the ground. As he neared Bella's neighborhood, Edward's scent hit him like a physical blow—all the rage and jealousy flooded his nostrils like smoke. Panic rose in him, and he pushed harder, leaping onto the roof and through her window. He arrived just in time to see Bella crumple to the floor.

Edward turned on him, his black eyes furious.

"You," Edward spat, crouching.

"Edward," Carlisle pleaded, "Please don't make me do this."

"She was _mine_!" Edward snarled, launching himself at Carlisle.

Edward was fast, but Carlisle was faster—and stronger. His arms encircled Edward's chest. There were a series of cracks and scrapes as Edward's ribs shattered beneath his grip, the splinters and shards grinding together. Edward cried out, wrenching himself away, panting.

"She was mine," he repeated weakly, wincing.

"Edward, go. I won't ask again," Carlisle ordered.

With one last look at Bella, Edward leapt out the window and disappeared into the darkness. Carlisle watched him go. When he was sure Edward wouldn't return, he rushed to Bella. Other than the blood staining her lips, she appeared to be unharmed. Gently, he scooped her up into his arms, and silently carried her back home.

* * *

The song was familiar. As Bella slowly regained consciousness, she had the strangest sense of déjà vu. Her eyes began to adjust to the light, and the fuzziness cleared.

Ancient books lined the walls, and she recognized the ornately carved desk.

She was at the Cullen house in Carlisle's study.

Bella could hear him on the phone in the other room—she couldn't make out what he was saying, but he sounded angry.

He had placed her on the leather sofa, covering her with a thick blanket. She swung her legs over the edge, cradling her head in her hands.

"Bella," Carlisle breathed from the doorway, the relief in his voice clear.

She hadn't even heard him come in.

"Hey," she croaked.

He bent over his desk, his back to her as he stared out the window.

"What Edward did was unforgivable," he said, his normally smooth, beautiful voice quivering with rage.

This unnerved Bella. He was usually so calm, collected—except for when they were together, of course.

"How did you…get me out?" Bella ventured nervously, half of her relieved he was there, the other half angry with him for separating her from Edward.

Carlisle crossed the room, sitting next to her on the couch, his elbows resting on his knees, the rage she had seen for a split second fading away.

Bella forgot her own anger briefly, his tender expression melting it away.

"I am much older than Edward, and much stronger," he explained quietly, his eyes finding hers, "he was in a state of frenzy, but he knew that much. He is my son, but he knows I'll do anything to protect you. Even hurt him."

Was he admitting his feelings for her? That he would kill his son to keep her from harm?

Bella blanched, not knowing what to say. She squirmed under his steady gaze, feeling as if he could read her mind—read that she still loved the thing that had just hurt her.

"He said he still loved me," Bella mumbled.

With a heavy sigh, Carlisle sat back into the couch. They sat in silence for a few moments.

"That's not love," he said finally.

Bella slowly lifted her head, glaring at him. If he noticed her anger, he said nothing.

"He wouldn't have left you. He wouldn't try to control you, and it wouldn't have taken jealousy to bring him back when your grief didn't," he said carefully.

"Edward's love is control," he continued, "When did you ever drive your own car? Sleep by yourself? When were you ever _by_ yourself?"

Denial reared its head.

"You're just jealous!" she accused, and she instantly regretted it.

"Yes, I am," he admitted sadly, holding her hands in his, "I'm jealous of my son; I covet what he has; I covet you, and I'm ashamed." Tears began to well up in her eyes. Was he ashamed he slept with her? That he had come back for her? Of course he was. What vampire wasn't ashamed? She just wasn't good enough.

She felt him grasp her chin in his fingers, tilting her head up.

"No, Bella, I'm not ashamed of you. I'm ashamed that I'm knowingly making my son unhappy because of my selfishness. That I'm willing to do anything to take you from him."

Bella jerked her face away. She jumped up from the couch, and turned her back to him. This was too much.

Her emotions were reeling. She turned back around, only to see Carlisle's head in his hands, and her heart sank.

Was it possible to be in love with two men? The father and the son?

The fact she was hurting Carlisle, who had always been kind, trusting and loving, who had traveled for days just to be near her, made her heart ache. Wasn't that love? Her yearning for him, the fact she went to his room and not Edward's that night, wasn't that clear enough?

"I'm sorry I took advantage of you the night of the party," he groaned into his hands, and Bella had never heard anyone sound so defeated, so helpless. "Ever since that day at the hospital, I have wanted you, Bella. I have desired you so much; I thought I would go mad. Even I, a vampire well over 300 years old, have limits."

She was suddenly overcome with the desire to reassure him, to tell him that she was his. She knelt before him, gently taking his hands from his face, and his sad eyes found hers.

"Don't apologize for making me happy," she whispered fiercely, "I did love Edward. Maybe some part of me always will. But…you're right. I can't live with his kind of love."

_His ultimatums, his smothering grip_.

Hope rose in his face, but crumpled in hers.

"What you said about Esme…that vampires grow apart, that worries me," she admitted quietly.

"Bella, I didn't know Esme when I changed her, when I bound her to me, when I married her. I made a foolish, rash decision, and yes, I loved her for many years. But I never _burned_ for her, Bella. I've never been away from her and been unable to endure it. I never would have been willing to destroy my family to have her," he pleaded.

She was overcome with affection for him; it spilled out of her in waves. She grasped his head, pulling it down to hers. For a moment they simply breathed. Tentatively, she brought her lips to his, and the kiss was gentle, more loving than passionate. He deepened the kiss, pulling her up, encouraging her to straddle him.

"Bella," he breathed, kissing her sternum, then her clavicle, with such reverence Bella couldn't help but love him in that moment. He pulled away, clenching his jaw, and she could see him regain control instantly. She supposed it wouldn't be unlike being around human blood.

_Years and years of practice._

"If you're not ready, if you're not sure—"

"I've never been more sure of anything," Bella lied. She wanted nothing more at this moment than to make him happy, regardless of how she felt. She nuzzled his regal nose, like he had done to hers. He smiled brightly, his eyes lighting up.

"My Bella."

"Yours," Bella agreed, though her heart tearing apart. She was not Carlisle's. She was not Edward's.

Where had _her_ Edward gone? The man she loved had been gentle, not a black-eyed monster that had tried to kill her.

_Carlisle_, she reminded herself. All thoughts of Edward melted away as he tugged at the bottom of her shirt, peeling it off her flushed skin.

_This is the shirt I wore in Volterra_, she mused. She was suddenly eager to have it off her, as if doing so meant washing Edward away.

Carlisle skimmed his fingers down her back, grasping her hips, tugging at her jeans.

_There's no graceful way to get these off_, Bella admitted grudgingly, standing up. Carlisle's eyes shined with mirth as she wiggled out of her jeans as gracefully as she could—which was still clumsy.

She bit her lip, straddling him again, slowly. She heard a clean, shrill rip as he tore her panties off, discarding them with the shirt. His fingers found her quickly, and he groaned at her wetness. There was a frenzy between them, a desperate need to be joined, to claim the other.

She gasped as he stroked her and rode his fingers, driven by her need. She made quick work of his zipper, and they both groaned)as she fisted his cock, stroking up and down roughly. He grasped her wrist gently, stopping her.

"Ride me," he growled, and desire shot through her like lightning. She remembered briefly that this was only their third time together, and her third time period. There was so much she had yet to do. In her heart she knew Edward would always want control—even intimately. Carlisle was encouraging her to explore her own desires, to have her way with him until she was satisfied.

She grasped him firmly, guiding him to her, sliding him inside her, lowering her hips. Bella's mouth fell open in awe as she savored this new sensation—the same, yet different. Fuller. He grasped her hips, grinding her against him, and Bella closed her eyes, whimpering. Every thrust stroked her g-spot, his spot, while shock waves of sensation went to her centre. She shuddered, alternating between deep and slow, shallow and quick, until she found an angle and pace that made her break out in sweat.

"That's it," he growled, his eyes fixated on her bouncing breasts. From the way they were both breathing, neither one of them would last very long. Carlisle was already grunting, his teeth bared, hissing with pleasure. His thumb found her centre, and Bella cried out, immediately riding him harder and faster.

"Yes," he moaned, his head falling back. Bella smiled, loving that she, Bella Swan, was giving him these sensations, was making him moan, and who would make him come. With Carlisle, she was coming alive. She felt that sensation in her stomach grow quickly, building and thrumming in her. She needed him just like this, his fingers were perfect.

"Yesyesyes oh fuck yes," she babbled, losing all coherence as she approached her orgasm. She shuddered as she came violently around him, her entire body seeming to clamp rhythmically, as wave and wave of pleasure crashed through her. Nothing had ever felt this good, this _right_. His hands snaked up her back to grasp her shoulders, pulling her down further, his thrusts stronger, rougher. Bella could do nothing but hold on as he fucked her into oblivion. He pulled her down onto him to the point of pain, roaring as he came and flooding her with burning venom. Her walls were still throbbing around him, milking him. His roars faded to groans as his thrusts slowed, and he rested his forehead against her chest, pressing closed-mouth kisses between her breasts. She wrapped her arms around him, cradling his head, giving him comfort for once. His venom leaked out of her as he softened, coating her thighs.

She gasped as he picked her up effortlessly, dashing up the stairs and into the large master bathroom. He set her down as he kissed her, smiling into her mouth while she swayed on her feet.

"There's a bathrobe in my closet," he murmured, moving to the gargantuan bathtub, twisting the knobs. She ambled to the closet, but upon opening it her stomach sank to the floor.

Wrong closet.

Apparently, Carlisle had yet to empty it of Esme's clothing. Bella shut it hurriedly, wanting to shut thoughts of Esme out of her head. More importantly, her fear of becoming another Esme in Carlisle's unending life.

_No, Bella, stop it_, she told herself. She couldn't let her fears ruin this night. Hadn't Carlisle explained Esme away?

She turned away from Esme's closet, and in doing so, her anxiety faded.

She found a downy white bathrobe in Carlisle's closet, and couldn't help but smile indulgently at the way it felt against her skin. She padded to the bathroom, smiling shyly.

"A little big for you," Carlisle grinned, and Bella's breath caught her throat as she admired him.

"If I could blush, Bella, I would be doing so," Carlisle said, winking as he strode past her to the light switch.

Bella fidgeted with the belt of the robe.

He dimmed the lights until they were almost out, before coming up behind her and grasping her hips.

Bella inhaled sharply as he nibbled the shell of her ear, deftly untying the robe and pushing it off her shoulders, letting it pool at her feet. Bella groaned as she sank into the hot water, closing her eyes with pleasure. She didn't even hear Carlisle get in with her—he was particularly skilled at remaining silent.

She cracked an eye open, regarding him shrewdly.

"Can you feel it?" she asked curiously.

"No," Carlisle said, tugging her gently towards him so she was nestled in between his thighs, her head resting on his shoulder.

"Not at this temperature," he continued, "The water would have to be boiling."

"Then why have it?"

She felt Carlisle smile into her hair, kissing her head.

"It's nice to pretend to be human sometimes," he said quietly, skimming her arm with his fingers, leaving a trail of goose bumps in their wake.

"Carlisle," she ventured carefully, "you said you've wanted me since the hospital. How…how did you, you know, keep it from him?"

He stopped skimming her arm, sighing.

"It's not important," Bella said quickly, trying to recover.

"No, no, dearest," Carlisle murmured, offering her a sad smile, "I should tell you."

Bella turned around, settling against the other side of the tub. She stared expectantly at him, and was momentarily dazzled. She doubted it would ever stop.

"Edward knew the moment it happened. What you saw in the hall, do you remember? When Edward and Rosalie confronted me? That was the start of it."

Memories swam dully in the back of her head. Her heart fluttered weakly at the memory of the van bouncing off Edward's hand, while his unearthly eyes bored into hers.

"It was, and is, clear that you are Edward's Singer," he continued, jerking her back from her reverie, "he staked his claim on you, demanding that I not pursue you. I justified the attraction to Edward and myself as a mere reaction to your blood. Hiding my thoughts is not easy—and nor did I want to hide them from Edward. I wanted so much for him to be _happy_. We all did. My love for my son, and your love for each other kept my feelings for you at bay, almost dormant."

The sadness on his face, in his voice was making Bella squirm with guilt.

"But that night of the party. You were so close," he said, his tongue darting over his lips, his eyes fixed on the water before him, "I couldn't resist anymore. Not even a 300-year-old doctor was a match for you. Bella, I've smelled the sweetest blood on earth, and venom has never flooded me like it did that night. I might not be human, but I'm still a man."

Bella blushed.

"But what about after?"

"Ah, yes. Edward's departure had two purposes. You see he knew, that night, he knew what passed between you and I. Edward does love you, and had I forced you, he would have killed me or died trying. But I didn't, Bella, you wanted me just as much as I wanted you, and he could never bring you pain. He wants what you want, even if it kills him. Or drives him mad," Carlisle admitted sadly. He paused, gathering his thoughts before continuing.

"So he left. He left to spare himself from the anguish, and left so that we, primarily I, would follow. If he couldn't have you, no one would."

Anger bubbled up inside Bella.

"But I'm not property!" She protested hotly.

A wan smile spread over his face.

"No, you're not," he agreed, "but to Edward you always would be—a tragedy of his time, perhaps, and maybe it will change as he ages, but Bella you must understand this concept of a Singer. It doesn't mean love. On the contrary, it means death, and never are they one and the same for vampires. Edward's fascination with you was,_ is_ rooted in the instinct to kill, to possess, to destroy. And no love can come of that."

Bella processed this.

"What about the others? How did they react?"

"Naturally the whole house knew: I couldn't hide that. Sex in and of itself is not shocking to us, our entire family is very aware of and comfortable with the intimacies of the others. Had you been Esme, it wouldn't have garnered hardly a response at all. But because you loved Edward, and because Edward loved you, I had done something wrong, caused irreparable harm, unraveled our family. But all of this, was nothing compared to the hope that I could have you—that you wanted me too," he whispered fervently, his eyes shining with unshed tears. "Even amidst the crumbling of my beloved family, I was elated. Our family did not all leave together. Esme and Edward went to Alaska, Alice and Jasper to France, Rosalie and Emmett to Wyoming. We process things differently, vampires, and while our family is not broken, choices must be made."

This, she knew.

They were silent for the rest of the bath, content to simply be in each other's presence.

Her eyes began to droop, lulled into a sleepy contentment as Carlisle stroked her hair, all of the stress and tension melting off her into the water.

"What does it feel like? To be like you?" she asked idly, threading her fingers through his.

He considered her question for a moment.

"Some parts of you, of the things you knew before, are numb—such as feeling temperature, eating food, they don't mean anything anymore. Not to your new body, your new senses," he explained, "but you replace those with new experiences, new sensations—it's _better_. Everything you never got to experience as a human—sights, smells, There is more…flavor," he added slyly.

Bella giggled.

"Is it hard to be around me at all? To be…with me?" she asked, examining her pruned fingers.

"No, not in the way you think. Being with you is one of the most natural feelings in the world—so is loving you. The only hardship is remembering that you are still human, which requires a certain amount of physical control."

"Like Edward?"

"No, not like Edward. I can love you without hardship. Physical _human _love, at any rate."

Bella leaned her head back farther, gazing up at him quizzically.

Carlisle smiled down at her indulgently.

"I lose myself in you, Bella, and you are so exquisite I sometimes forget that you are still human, that I can hurt you if I'm not careful," he murmured.

Bella grinned.

"I took the liberty of purchasing some essentials; a toothbrush, lotion, feminine products. I hope you don't think me presumptuous," he said almost bashfully.

"Hardly," she snorted, kissing his hand.

"Do you need a human moment?" he asked, his lips against her ear, his voice low and smooth, sending tremors to her still swollen core.

"Please," she responded, her mouth dry, "and I need my cell phone. I have to call Charlie."

"Of course," Carlisle agreed, throwing on a bathrobe before disappearing to collect her phone.

As she brushed her hair, she wondered if Edward would try to hurt Charlie.

"Is Charlie safe?" Bella asked as Carlisle returned with her phone.

"Yes," Carlisle said, "Edward's fight isn't with you. He's also quite injured, he's not in any kind of position to do anyone any harm."

Relief spread through Bella.

"Good," she sighed, dialing Charlie.

He answered promptly, sounding tired.

"Bells? When are you coming home?"

"I won't be tonight. I'm over at Jessica's, we're trying to finish a project. We won't be finished till late, so I'm just going to stay over."

"Alright. Don't work too hard, Bells, if you can't get it done tonight don't kill yourself," Charlie said.

Bella smiled.

"Thanks dad."

She hung up, feeling guilty.

"We'll tell him in time," Carlisle assured her.

Time.

As she lay beside Carlisle that night, there suddenly didn't seem to be enough of it.


End file.
